


Beyond Compare - Part 4, The Morning After

by badskippy



Series: Bagginshield One-Offs [38]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Boys In Love, Idiots in Love, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Morning After, Morning Kisses, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 18:11:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16023248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskippy/pseuds/badskippy
Summary: Thorin has a problem ... he can't remember a thing about the night before!But Bilbo does ... and boy, does he!





	Beyond Compare - Part 4, The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aquileaofthelonelymountain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquileaofthelonelymountain/gifts), [Neeka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neeka/gifts), [Alcram_dreamers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alcram_dreamers/gifts).



* * *

 

            Thorin paced impatiently, his head pounding, both eager and dreading the arrival of his closest, most trusted advisor.  After what seemed an eternity, the door to his chambers opened and a guard let Balin in.

            “Good morning, my king.  You sent for me?”

            “Yes,” Thorin demanded; he had no time for pleasantries.  “I need to know what happened last night!”

            “I’m, um ...” Balin suppressed a smile.  “... sure you do.”

            Thorin closed his eyes for a moment.  “How bad?”

            “That depends on one’s definition of the word.”  Balin was clearly finding it hard to keep from smiling.  “What ... _exactly_ , do you remember?”

            “NOTHING!” Thorin shouted.  “That’s why I sent for you!  I remember ... nothing!”

            Balin sighed.  “As I as said, it depends on definition.  It might not be so bad that you don’t remember.”

            “Do not make light of it!”

            “No.”  Balin drew a breath.  “Do you remember dinner?”

            Thorin nodded.  “I remember _going_ to the dining hall.”

            “At some point, someone ... and I don’t remember who ... suggested we crack open one of the barrels of Elvish wine.”

            During the cleanup and inventorying of the treasure room, they found several barrels of wine that were given to Thror by Thranduil as a tribute.  While Thror had no love of the drink, he did love the barrels, which were of rare wood and decorated with gold.  Those barrels had been placed in the treasury just before Smaug invaded and naturally left behind when the Dwarves fled.   Oddly, thanks to Smaug, the barrels had been turned as the dragon writhed through and around the gold, thus keeping the wine from spoiling.

            “Of course,” Balin continued, “most had only a small cup or goblet of the stuff.”

            “It was strong I take it,” Thorin said, fearing where the story was going.

            Balin nodded.  “Potent to be sure.  However ... my brother, being who he is, declared that only a Pansy Elf or Weak-headed Man would drink from such dainty vessels—”

            “Of course he did.”

            “—and proceeded to dump out his ale, fill his _tankard_ to the brim with wine, and ...”

            Thorin shook his head.  “And he challenged me to do the same, didn’t he?”

            Balin chuckled, nodding.  “Which you did.”

            Thorin sighed.  _Mahal save me from myself._

“After you both finished off your third tankard of wine ...”

            “ _THIRD_?!”

            Balin nodded again.  “You two then returned to drinking ale.”

            “Durin’s beard.”

            “That was when you and Dwalin got into a ... _debate_ , shall we say.”

            “Debate?”

            “About ... _attributes_... and comparing said attributes to various gems, metals and even the Valar themselves finally.”

            Thorin turned a gawping look in Balin’s direction.

            “You each had differing opinions on the subject.”

            “But ... what _attributes_ are you talking about?!”

            “Mostly eyes ... and ... faces.”

            “ _What_?!  _Who’s_?!”

            Balin cleared his throat and looked everywhere but directly at Thorin.  “Master Baggins and Young Ori.”

            Thorin’s legs nearly gave out and he sat quickly or else he’d fall.  “I’m ... I’m in no mood for joking, Balin!”

            “And I’m not making one,” Balin said empathically. “It was quite the night for declarations.”

            Thorin grabbed his pounding head and wished he had the strength to crush it.  “Oh, my ... this ... this can’t be true.  It cannot be!”

            Balin shrugged.  “I’m afraid it is _very_ true.”

            “Bilbo must think me a fool!”

            “That’s not quite the word I’d use," Bilbo said quietly from behind.

            Thorin whipped around and found Bilbo coming into the room, a guard right behind him.

            “Put the tray there, please,” Bilbo said, pointing to the table before the hearth.  The guard placed the large food tray he carried on the table as instructed, nodded to Bilbo and then to Thorin, before exiting the room.

            “I’ll leave you to enjoy your breakfast,” Balin said softly.

            “Balin ...” Thorin almost begged him to stay but the white-haired dwarf did not heed and left, closing the door behind him.

            Bilbo pulled two chairs over to the table and set two plates in front of each.  He sat down and took a folded napkin, laying it on his lap.  He loaded his plate with food and poured what looked like milk into two cups, placing the cups next to each plate.

            Thorin stood still, unsure of what awaited him. Was Bilbo angry?  Was the food laced with poison?  Thorin wanted to dismiss that notion but it was hard. 

            “Aren’t you going to sit down?” Bilbo asked evenly, his face completely unreadable.

            Thorin slowly took the seat opposite from Bilbo and watched as Bilbo piled a plate with food for Thorin.

            “Please don’t tell me you’re not hungry,” Bilbo said, taking a hard-boiled egg and eating half.  “The cooks will be very disappointed.”

            Thorin speared a thick slice of ham and with resignation of his fate, ate half in one bite; it was delicious.  And definitely not poisoned.

            They ate in silence for several long minutes and slowly Thorin relaxed.  Maybe Bilbo had not been there when he and Dwalin had their debate?  Maybe Bilbo had gone to bed early?   Maybe Ori had gone as well, and even Dwalin was spared?  Maybe Thorin had been lucky and had a near miss!  Watching Bilbo happily eat his breakfast, a slight hum on his lips, Thorin believed that it was fine, that he was worried for nothing. 

            Yes, Thorin felt much better. 

            However, as Thorin took a huge swig of the creamy milk, Bilbo asked casually, “Is my arse really a gift from the Gods?”

            Thorin choked on his drink; he couldn’t breath and his head near exploded.  Bilbo jumped up instantly and started pounding on Thorin’s back until Thorin had, at last, caught his breath and thankfully not inhaled his milk.

            Bilbo giggled.  “That wasn’t very nice was it?”

            But Thorin wasn’t laughing.  “I’m so sorry.”

            Bilbo giggled again.  “What’s to be sorry—”

            “I insulted you.”

            “What?!”

            “Last night.  Balin told me what happened and I—”

            “You did no such thing!”

            Thorin was confused.  “But ... the things I said ...”

            Bilbo shook his head.  “I’ll admit.  I was embarrassed and ... a little upset.”

            “Well, there you go!  I upset you!”

            Bilbo rolled his eyes.  “I’m not.  Not about what you said ... but when.  Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

            Thorin looked away.  “Would you have accepted it?   After all I did to you?”

            Bilbo smiled.  “You were drunk!  It was no big—”

            “I mean at the wall.”

            Bilbo stilled.  “That wasn’t you.”

            “IT WAS!”  Thorin spat out, disgusted with himself.  “After I hurt you, insulted you, blamed you ... for my own folly!”  Thorin shook his head.  “How can you even look at me?!”

            Bilbo reached out and gently turned Thorin’s face towards him.  “Because my eyes are like emeralds.  My cheeks like rose-colored quartz.  My skin as smooth as polished marble and my hair ... my hair is like spun gold.”

            Thorin blinked in his surprised. 

            Bilbo smiled.  “At least ... that’s what you told me last night.”

            “Bilbo ...”

            “Did you not mean them?”

            “I did!  I just don’t—”

            Bilbo leaned down and kissed his king, whispering. “Then tell me again.  So that you can remember this time.”

            Thorin almost couldn’t breathe.  “Bilbo.  I—”

            “I love you.  Pure and simple.  And I have for ages.   _That's_ why I forgave you.  Long, long ago.”

            Thorin’s heart swelled and he stood, gathering Bilbo to him and kissed him, deeply, eagerly, and with all the love he felt.   When he pulled back, he purred, “I want to make love to you.”

            Bilbo smiled and nodded.  “I hope it’s as good the second time.”

            Thorin almost choked again.  “ _Second time_?!”

            Bilbo smirked.  “How else did I get the notion about my arse!”

            Thorin was gob-smacked and Bilbo could do nothing but laugh and drag Thorin to the bedroom.

 

 

 


End file.
